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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197618">fixable</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/choerryfizz/pseuds/choerryfizz'>choerryfizz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, dont look at me like that im sorry okay, good luck yall, its angst but it also isnt, its only angsty at like the end, seungmin doesnt die in this one but he almost does, what can i say im the certified seungmin killer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:01:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/choerryfizz/pseuds/choerryfizz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungmin didn't look up. "They said I was worth something now. They fixed me. They said I was fixed."</p><p>"Oh, Seungmin..." Jisung sighed, gently taking the sobbing boy into his arms. "You're not fixed. You're not, and that's okay.</p><p>You don't need to be fixed to be loved."</p><p> </p><p>Kim Seungmin thinks there's something wrong with him—luckily, Han Jisung is there to show him that it's okay to not be okay.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>fixable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW: IMPLICATIONS OF SUICIDE, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, SELF HARM</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kim Seungmin inhaled the outside air for the first time in three months.</p><p>It was about time. He despised the loony club—sorry, the psych ward—and everyone in it. He shouldn't have even been there in the first place, anyway. He wasn't crazy, like those other kids. He was normal. He was a teenager. He was a teenager and teenagers do dumb things. It wasn't his fault.</p><p>Or maybe it was. Maybe it was his fault that he ended up locked into the Manhattan Psychiatric Hospital for three months, one week and four days. Maybe he shouldn't have overdosed on ibuprofen on his seventeenth birthday. But that hardly mattered now. He was out. He was fixed.</p><p>So he walked his extremely-totally-100%-fixed self down Houston Street, nearly empty red suitcase rolling behind him. And he strolled his completely-utterly-entirely-fixed self up the three flights of stairs to reach the small apartment he lived in with his roommate and best friend (who happened to be the most annoying person on the face of the planet).</p><p>"Seungminnie! You're back!" Changbin bounded into the room like an overly-excited puppy, bouncing onto the cracking sea-green couch they had found in a dumpster three years ago, when they first moved into this rickety old place. "How do you feel?"</p><p>"I'm fine, Changbin." Seungmin sighed and locked the front door behind him. He was fine. He was fixed. "I'm surprised you didn't burn the house down while I was gone."</p><p>"You have no faith in me."</p><p>"I most certainly do not." Seungmin dropped his suitcase off in the room and dumped what dirty laundry he had into the basket. He crinkled his nose. "Changbin, have you done laundry at all while I was gone?"</p><p>Changbin shrugged. "I didn't need to. I wear Hyunjin's clothes, anyway."</p><p>(Seungmin had lied when he said Changbin was the most annoying person on the face of the planet—Hwang Hyunjin, his boyfriend, most definitely takes the cake on that one.)</p><p>Seungmin sighed. "I'm gonna go take a nap."</p><p>Changbin frowned, hurt clouding his eyes. But he blinked it away.</p><p>"Okay. I'll be quiet." Was the last thing Seungmin heard Changbin sigh before he slammed the door to his room, leaning against the doorframe.</p><p>Seungmin did not have the energy to deal with an overly-enthusiastic roommate that didn't know how to cope with having a suicidal best friend. Seungmin wished he could show Changbin just how much he meant to him—but he didn't know how. After the stunt he pulled three months ago, he wasn't even sure if Changbin would believe him.</p><p>He sighed again and slid down the doorframe. Seungmin couldn't do anything correctly—he couldn't be nice to his best friend, he couldn't even kill himself accurately. What a failure he was. If only he'd gotten that right, he wouldn't be dealing with all of this right now.</p><p>But don't get it twisted—he was still absolutely-fully-wholeheartedly-undisputedly fixed. Right?</p><p> </p><p>Seungmin gripped the paper bag in his hand tighter as he knocked on the studio door impatiently, cracking his neck as he did so.</p><p>Seungmin had slept the entire night leaned against the doorway. Changbin had found him in the morning when he was bringing Seungmin his favorite coffee from the shop downstairs—and nearly spilled the boiling liquid on the unsuspecting boy. But Changbin was kind enough to move at the last second and ended up spilling it all over himself instead.</p><p>"The sacrifices I make for you," Changbin had spoken with a smile after telling Seungmin the story. Even though it was a joke, Seungmin still couldn't help but feel terrible.</p><p>So that brings him here—standing outside Changbin's studio with coffee to make it up for him, December cold nipping at his exposed neck while he waits for his best friend to open his damn door.</p><p>And the door opens, but Changbin isn't the one that answers.</p><p>"Uh...Hello?" Seungmin says to the rather short, buff man that answers in place of his roommate.</p><p>But the man (who had been rather intimidating) burst into a bright, dimpled smile. "Oh, you're Seungmin, aren't you? Come in, come in!"</p><p>Seungmin was going to say he had places to be (even though he very well did not) but was dragged inside by the man who had a very heavy Australian accent.</p><p>"Changbin! Your bestie is here." The man called.</p><p>"Seungminnie!" His best friend bounced into the room nearly immediately, hugging Seungmin in an annoyingly tight embrace. "You brought me coffee!"</p><p>"Well, duh. You asked me to."</p><p>Changbin smiled. "I didn't think you actually would."</p><p>Ouch.</p><p>Seungmin grimaced, but Changbin didn't notice and continued to talk. "I see you've met Chan already-" he gestured toward the man that had answered the door "-so there's one more person I want you to meet."</p><p>Changbin grabbed his hand and dragged him through the door he had leapt through. "This is Jerry!" He motioned to a small body that was curled into a couch.</p><p>"Jerry?" Seungmin frowned.</p><p>Chan smiled, patting Seungmin on the back. "Yup! We're 3racha, better known as two best friends and their bottom named Jerry."</p><p>"I am not a bottom." The boy—Jerry—spoke up, uncurling from where he'd been sitting. "And my name isn't Jerry." Never mind, the boy wasn't Jerry.</p><p>Not Jerry stood, and Seungmin quickly discovered two things—just how short Not Jerry was (he was taller than Changbin, but everybody is taller than Changbin), and just how adorable he looked in Changbin's (it was actually Hyunjin's) baby blue hoodie.</p><p>Seungmin stuck out his hand awkwardly. "Uh, hi Not Jerry. I'm Seungmin."</p><p>Not Jerry frowned before his face contorted into an unreadable expression. Then he burst into laughter. "Not Jerry? Really?" He spoke between rushed breaths.</p><p>Seungmin scratched the back of his neck, rubbing at his now-dark red ear. Not Jerry was cute. Very, very cute.</p><p>Not Jerry had finally pulled himself together and shook Seungmin's hand. "Hi, my name is actually Jisung. Nice to meet you, Seungmin." Jerry. Jisung. Same difference.</p><p>"Jisung, can you walk Seungmin back home? You're done for today, and he has to cross the Manhattan bridge to get back to our apartment." Changbin requested. Seungmin could hear the underlying meaning behind his words—make sure he doesn't try to kill himself again, okay, Not Jerry?</p><p>It was stupid. He didn't need supervision. He was grown. He was fixed.</p><p>Show them you're fixed. Show them by-</p><p>No. He couldn't blame Changbin. If he was in his position, he'd be wary, too. Even if he knew he was fixed.</p><p>And besides, Jisung was really cute (we've been over this). Maybe Changbin was doing him a favor.</p><p>Jisung smiled widely, lacing his arm with Seungmin's and dragging him out the door. "Absolutely! Let's go, Seungmin!"</p><p> </p><p>Jisung had spent the entire walk home non-stop blabbering about everything and anything. Usually, Seungmin would find this behavior annoying—but Jisung was adorably talkative and lovably passionate, and Seungmin simply watched him talk with a fond look in his eyes. Occasionally, Seungmin would have to guide Jisung off a curb to keep him from falling or hold him up so he didn't trip over his own feet, but the face Jisung would make after and the little giggle he'd give Seungmin while laying his head on his shoulder in amusement kept Seungmin from feeling anything but fondness for him.</p><p>"And that's why Chan and Changbin call me Jerry, even though my actual real English name is Peter Han Holmes- sorry, I'm talking too much, aren't I? I always do that. Stupid Jisung, stupid, stupid-"</p><p>Seungmin promptly yanked himself out of the distracted daze he had been, gazing in awe at his new best friend (he'd decided to ditch Changbin after hearing the Jerry story.)</p><p>"No!" Seungmin exclaimed entirely too enthusiastically. "No, you aren't talking too much. I don't really like to talk, and you look really cute when you're blabbering about God knows what. Don't stop."</p><p>Jisung pouted softly and god Seungmin was going to die- "Really? I'm not annoying? Everybody always tells me to shut up because I'm annoying. You don't have to pretend to like me. I know I'm hard to like."</p><p>"You most definitely are not hard to like. You're so adorable and lovable and-" Seungmin stopped himself, turning red. He cleared his throat. "You get the point."</p><p>Jisung giggled. "Okay, well, let me tell you the story of how Chan accidentally ended up attending a ham curing class when he was in eighth grade and found a dead baby pig inside the ham-"</p><p>Yeah, Seungmin could get used to this.</p><p> </p><p>When Seungmin and Jisung finally arrived at Seungmin's apartment, it was snowing heavily. Luckily, the two just evaded the worst of the storm—but that meant Jisung had to stay the night. (Oh no, Seungmin had thought. How terrible.)</p><p>Quickly after they established that fact, Seungmin received a text from Changbin, informing the two that Chan and Changbin would be staying the night at the studio, leaving the entire apartment to them. (Oh no, even more horrid.)</p><p>Seungmin hadn't realized how messy he'd let his room progress during his most recent depressive episode—not until Jisung walked in. But Jisung said nothing, simply observing quickly before looking away and smiling.</p><p>So Jisung and Seungmin curled up under Seungmin's bed covers, legs entangled slightly. Since they had walked all the way from downtown New York up into the city, Seungmin wasn't surprised when Jisung complained about being tired. So even though it was only eleven at night, the two decided to turn in.</p><p>Jisung had fallen asleep hours ago. Seungmin was exhausted, but he couldn't seem to make himself sleep. In the psych ward, they had been given pills to lure them into the unconscious realms—now, Seungmin couldn't sleep without them.</p><p>So that left him alone—buried in neck-deep in his never-ending thoughts, nowhere to put his intrusive urges. Usually, when this would happen before, he'd crawl into Changbin's bed and sleep with him, shrouded in the warm arms of his best friend. But Changbin wasn't here.</p><p>Seungmin sighed and slipped out of bed, softly padding to his bathroom. He was going to wash his face. That was it. Nothing else. No pills, no razor blades, no overflowing bathtubs—no. None of that. He was fixed. He was fixed.</p><p>Seungmin splashed his face with water. He was fixed.</p><p>He glared at his reflection. But he allowed his gaze to trail away to Changbin's razor, sitting atop the white tile countertop.</p><p>Slit your wrists.</p><p>No. No, he's fine. He's fixed. They fixed him.</p><p>He tightened his fists. No. No, don't grab the razor. No. No. He's fixed.</p><p>He forced his eyes away. He returned them to his reflection, but they trailed over to the corner of the mirror. It was cracked and missing a shard. Seungmin could easily break off another fragment and slit his wrists. He should do that. That's what he will do.</p><p>"No." He interrupted. "You're fixed. They fixed you. You're fixed. You're fixed."</p><p>But his fingers moved without his permission, and he was grabbing at the mirror. Before his mind could react, the voices forced his hands forward. His fingertips were dancing over the edge of the glass, and then they were breaking off a piece. No. No, no no no no no-</p><p>The glass was dragging across his wrist. The familiar pain filled his bones with an unsettling comfort, seeping under his scalp and slithering its cold fingers across his pale skin and through his veins. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He reached to do it again.</p><p>No. No, he can't. No, what is he doing? He was fixed.</p><p>They lied.</p><p>The shard of glass fell from Seungmin's hands, breaking in a silent shatter. No, no, shut up. Shut up. He was fixed.</p><p>No one will love you when you're broken.</p><p>His fist connected with the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung was yanked from his peaceful sleep with the sound of a mirror shattering. He looked to his left, seeing if Seungmin had heard it too. But Seungmin wasn't there.</p><p>He heard a quiet, angry scream before he understood. Seungmin.</p><p>He scrambled up, out of bed, towards the loud sobbing he could hear through the bathroom door. He pulled himself through the doorframe and saw Seungmin curled in a ball, crying into his forearms. The bathroom mirror was shattered, broken into pieces all around him.</p><p>Seungmin didn't look up. "They said I was worth something now. They fixed me. They said I was fixed."</p><p>"Oh, Seungmin..." Jisung sighed, gently taking the sobbing boy into his arms. "You're not fixed. You're not, and that's okay.</p><p>You don't need to be fixed to be loved."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was my favorite thing i'd ever written for such a long time but then i reread it and realized how not good it was</p></blockquote></div></div>
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